


Catching the Flames

by Accidental_Ducky



Category: The Haunting in Connecticut (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte Wills is a shy teenager who's only date one guy in her life; Matt Campbell is a sick boy who'd love nothing more than to have a normal life without worrying about cancer. When these two meet again on that fateful summer before college they will find things out about themselves and each other that bring them together to fight an old evil in Matt's new house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I. Lottie and Mattie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lottie: http://www.polyvore.com/charlotte_wills/set?id=206723215  
> Outfits: http://www.polyvore.com/catching_flames/collection?id=4426571

I glare at my computer screen, the fingers of my left hand tapping my desk impatiently while my chin was supported on my right hand. Thus far, the story I've been working on for the past three years seemed to be completely falling apart at the seams; the main character was very nearly a Mary Sue, the supporting characters were completely wrong, and the plot development was sinking faster than the Titanic.

 _Okay, that was a bad example_.

With a final groan, I shut down the laptop and move over to my window seat, content to just read until my nana forced me to put it up and go to bed for the night. Music played softly for background noise, my head bobbing along to the rhythm as I read  _Inkheart_  for the thousandth time. The book seemed to get better every time I pick it up off the shelf and I would need to make a Barnes and Noble run soon because the book was beginning to fall apart faster than I could tape it back together.

"Charlotte," Nana calls from downstairs," come down here for a second!" I set my book down and do as I was told, knowing she'd only come up here if she thought I was taking too long. I find my nana staring out the window above the kitchen sink, absently washing the plates from dinner.

"What'd you need," I ask, walking up to stand next to her, impatient to get back to my reading.

"Isn't that the boy you dated before you moved here?" I follow her gaze and see three people across the street heading into the old Aickman place, two of which were familiar. _The Campbell family must have had to move because of Matt's chemo_. When she sees my nod a Cheshire grin appears on her face. "Well, then you have a reason to bake some of that Coca-Cola cake I love so much."

"Nana," I groan, tossing my head back in frustration. "It's considered weird to bring your ex food."

"The only reason you two broke up is because you had to move here, but now Matt's here. You're gonna bake that boy a cake and take it over to him tomorrow so it doesn't seem like we're the type of people that stare out the window at night."

"You  _are_  the type of person that stares out the window at night, though."

"We know that, but they don't need to." Snorting, I gather up the clean dishes and begin putting them away to make less work for Nana. Matt Campbell and I had dated from ninth grade to just about six months ago when I had to move in with Nana so my mom could check into rehab. He and I had known each other since we were in diapers and had kept in touch by email and text message.

Even suffering from cancer he continued to run track on the days he could, sending me pictures of his newest trophies and medals; he ran for the same reason I swim, to escape from stress and worry.

"Fine," I sigh, shutting the cabinet door and facing the old woman. "I will bake Matt a cake and take it over there tomorrow, say noon-ish, and _you_ will get off my back about finding a new guy to date." Nana smiles in triumph, drying her hands before pulling me into a hug. "Can I go back to my book now or am I gonna get the safe sex speech again?"

"Go on, baby, as long as you're smart enough to be on birth control and have the guy use a condom, then there's not much more I can tell you." _Thank God for Nanas that don't worry about their grandkid's sex lives!_ I run back upstairs, flopping onto my bed and grabbing my book again, fighting sleep just to get to finish my chapter.

~•~

The next morning, I wake up with  _Inkheart_ laying on my chest and a severe case of bed-head. "Fantastic," I mutter, dragging myself out of my bed's warm embrace and down the hall to the bathroom where I went through my morning routine, taking a bit longer on my hair than usual because I would see Matt today for the first time since I came here.

His treatments always ran late, plus they had the long drive back home, so I never saw Matt when he made his trips up here for chemo.

Content that I look decent, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen to begin making chocolate chip muffins for myself and Nana only to find a note taped to a muffin pan on the kitchen table. 

**Take these over to your boyfriend, love Nana XOXO.**

Wow, that's a new level of pushing me into a boy's arms. At least this time we weren't in public while she's matchmaking. Rolling my eyes and straightening out the black dress I have on, I grab the muffins—making sure to throw the note in the trash so that Matt and Mrs. Campbell don't see it—and head on across the street.

Not bothering to knock, I walk inside with a shit-eating grin. "Good morning, Campbell family, are you ready to play America's favorite game: Who Wants to Eat a Muffin," I question loudly in my best game show host voice. Matt and his mom appear a few minutes later, coming up from the basement where Aickman did all his business. I hold up the muffin pan, letting them see the delicious feast. "Straight from the kitchen of one Cynthia Wills comes the world famous chocolate chip muffins that will make your mouth water." Matt grins at my antics, coming forward to give me a tight hug.

"I've missed you, Lottie," he murmurs while his mom takes the muffins from me so I can hug him back. "You have no idea how far downhill the girls swim team has gone since you left. It's pitiful really." I slap his shoulder lightly with a snort. Lottie is a childhood nickname that's stuck over the years; Matt and Nana are the only ones who still call me it on a regular basis, though.

"As much as I love your nana's muffins, how'd you know we were here," Sara asks.

"Nana was watching y'all out the kitchen window while she was doing dishes last night. I've told her it's a weird habit, but she always says that she's old and can do whatever she wants," I shrug, pulling back with a smile. "I was gonna make y'all a cake, but—"

"Coca-Cola," Matt interrupts, raising his brows.

"Yeah…."

"If you make me that cake I will love you forever." I snort, bumping him with my hip. "I mean, I love anyways, but the cake will make that love even stronger." Sara rolls her eyes, leading the way into the kitchen. "This place looks different in the daytime, doesn’t it?"

"What do you mean," Sara asks, looking between us and frowning when Matt blushes.

"Uh, d-d," I stutter, looking at the adult with wide eyes. "I… Let's have those muffins now! Yeah, muffins are good for your immortal soul." Sara continues to look at Matt and me, one eyebrow raised and her free hand resting on her hip in the signature  _spill your guts_ look all parents seem to have mastered. "It's nothing really." I laugh nervously under her stare, looking at Matt for backup. "Tell her, Mattie."

"Me," he asks with a deer in the headlights look," wh— I’m not the one who came up with the idea!" I move so that I'm standing half-behind Matt, giving him a sheepish smile. "W-well, it was that Halloween that I spent up here…. And we sort of…." He coughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know, snuck in to see if it was really haunted."

"Seriously, guys," Sara inquires," who put you up to it?" She pauses, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Nathan put the idea in your heads, didn't he?" Nathan is my older brother and a known trouble maker of all sorts. At my nod, Sara sets the muffins down on the table with a scoff. "Of course he did. I can't believe he sent two eight year olds in here to look for ghosts."

"So…. Muffins?" She gives her son an unamused look, sitting at the table and taking a muffin for herself.

"Muffins," I affirm, sitting down with Matt and picking at a muffin of my own.

*~::~*~::~*~::~*~*LATER*~::~*~::~*~::~*~*

"I'm stealing your son for a few hours," I yell up the stairway with a grin.

"Okay, bring him back before dinner," Sara calls back.

"You got it!" With both of my arms wrapped around one of Matt's, I pull him out the door with me and over to my house across the street. He laughs, letting me pull him with me through the house and into the backyard to one of the folding chairs that were set up on the porch. "Now, you sit and I'll be right back."

"Yes, ma'am," he smiles, sitting carefully down into the chair. I run upstairs, changing out of the dress I'd put on this morning since it was dirty from cleaning and slipping into a pair of short cotton shorts, my Ravenclaw tee shirt, and flip-flops. Satisfied, I run back outside where Matt was waiting for me. "You still wear it." I was confused about what he meant for a second until he brushes his fingers over the four-leaf clover necklace I rarely took off.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know." He laughs a little, tugging me down so that I was sitting on his lap. "I missed you, Lottie."

"Mm, I missed you too, Mattie." I hug him tightly, resting my head on top of his as his rested in the space between my neck and shoulder. His arms wrap around me loosely, and I giggle when I feel him placing light kisses on my neck.

"You smell good."

"You don't smell so bad yourself." I stay like that for a few minutes more, just enjoying the warmth he offered. "Come on, put on some sun block and let's go swimming!" I get up, slathering some sun block on before tossing Matt the bottle and removing my flip-flops, running and doing a cannon ball in the cool water. It was too cold to swim in a bathing suit, but not too cold that I couldn't swim at all.

"Holy shit," Matt shouts after he jumped in, his bare chest so white that it could blind people four blocks away. "It's cold!"

"Oh, you big baby." He splashes water at me, starting a war that I quickly won.

Later that day finds Matt and me curled up on his couch under a heavy comforter with Ice Age playing on the TV. He had fallen asleep a few minutes ago, his head on my shoulder and light snores coming from his open mouth. I play with his short dishwater blonde hair, sad that it wasn't as long as it was before he had to start his chemo. I used to be able to put small braids in it, but that was impossible now.

"Hey, kiddo," Peter greets, sitting on the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table. "How are you feeling?"

"Peachy," I say sarcastically. He nods sadly, moving the comforter so that it covered all of us. "Do you think he'll beat this?"

"Why wouldn't he? He has you to fight with him."

"Yeah, but I'm in remission, partially anyway. He's getting really bad."

"He'll get better." Peter takes my hand in one of his, giving it a squeeze. "Don't worry so much, you're gonna make yourself sick." For a moment, it felt like when Matt and I were kids and we would pile up on the couch with Peter to watch movies until I fell asleep and Peter carried me home. That was before the cancer got too bad and made me want to hide out in my room, but Matt always found ways to cheer me up.

 _Please don’t leave me yet, Mattie_.


	2. II. Spotting Jonah

As I finished my morning jog—a habit I picked back up once I was strong enough—I paused on the sidewalk in front of the Campbells’ temporary home, my dark eyes drawn to one of the upper story windows where someone was gazing down at the street. The sun made it difficult to see who it was, but when I waved, they waved back and I assumed it was Matt. Who else could it be anyway? Mister Campbell was too tall and bulky and Matt's brother was too short. Smiling, I walk up to their porch and was a few feet from the door when Matt's dad came out.

"Hey, Charlotte. Have you changed something since last night?" He had a dorky smile on his lips as he motions towards me with his briefcase. He was talking about my blue-green wig and the multiple fake piercings in my ears, his smile only widening as I take all the theatrics off. "Trying to see how you'd look without blonde hair again?"

"Nah," I answer with a returning smile," I figured out that if I look like a hoodlum, then the old ladies occupying my jogging route will usually power walk around me without trying to talk or ask me how I feel."

"Hm, I might have to try that out one of these days, but until then, I have to get to work." He places a kiss on the top of my head as he passes. "There's some cold bacon inside if you want some, kiddo."

"Thanks, Peter."

"Welcome." I walk inside the house and straight to the kitchen where Sara was doing dishes and humming to herself.

"Bacon's in the fridge," she says before I even open my mouth. "Could you trick Matt into eating some? He didn't eat much this morning."

"Sure." I grab the plate and head for the basement stairs, knowing Matt well enough to look for him there first since he liked to hang out in his room when he didn't feel good. The stairs creak under my weight, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the darkened room and making me shiver. It was cold down here and I could make out a small window that kept out the summer heat. "Matt?" There was no answer and it wasn't until I reached the bottom of the stairs that I realized the room was empty. I bite my lip, the feeling of being watched making me breathe a little faster. I shake the feeling off as well as I can, moving to set the plate down on the desk before turning to look behind me. The room seemed to be cut in half by a wall and door that led to another room, but I could see a shadow pacing around in the other room. "Matt, is that you?" I move over to the door, trying to see inside, but the dark and dusty glass made it hard.

"Lottie." I let out a shriek and spin on my heel to face the person behind me, my back pressed against the door.

"Dammit, Matt!" He offers a smile, walking over to me and holding out a hand for me to take. "Where were you hiding?" He shrugs, twining our fingers together and leading me over to his bed, grabbing the plate of bacon on the way, tugging on my hand until I'm sitting down next to him. "You know, the last time I was on a bed with you, we did something that would make God sad."

"We were dying, he'd understand," Matt laughs, offering me a piece of the cold bacon. When I went to take a bite out of it, he snatches it back and shoves it in his own mouth.

"Cheater." I snatch my own piece, leaning back against the wall as I munch on it. "What's with the creepy room of doom over there?" Matt follows my gaze to the door across the room, no shadowy figures pacing this time. _Was I hallucinating?_ That thought makes me uneasy, it could be a symptom of my medication or something even worse. I've only been in remission a few weeks and I've been scared since the doctor cleared me that the cancer may come back again.

"I don't know. It is really creepy though, isn't it?"

"Department of Mysteries creepy," I nod around a mouthful. "Your mom sent me down here to force feed you." Matt rolls his eyes, putting his legs across mine so he could lay back and stare up at the ceiling. "Don't act like that, it's not attractive."

"I'm not exactly attractive right now."

"And I wasn't attractive when I was going through chemo, none of us are, but we move past it and tell everyone that we're peachy so they'll leave us alone and stop preaching that it was God's plan." I flick his forehead when he scowls over at me. "Alright, what was it our therapist always said? Think cheery thoughts, it'll keep depression at bay; a blatant lie, but it made our parents feel so much better. Now, remember that time back in third grade when I was getting picked on because my hair was more white than blonde back then?"

"Yeah, those fifth grade girls were calling you an old lady. How is that a cheery thought?"

"Shut up, I'm getting to it. Anyway, we spent recess the next day using markers to color my hair purple because that was the best color ever back then and it still is." Matt nods with a fond smile, taking another small bite of food. Good, my hypothesis is proving to be true; he almost always eats when someone's talking to him. "And when they saw me, they started mocking me and calling me Barney because the marker was all over my hands." Again, Matt nods and takes another bite. "And I think my favorite thing about all of that is part where you kicked Stacy in the ankle for making fun of me and then we both had to sit on the wall during recess for two weeks."

"It was completely worth it." Matt and I share a smile and he begins to play with my fingers using his free hand. "And I suppose my mother will be happy since you pulled a dirty trick to get me to eat without quite realizing it."

"You threatened to touch my feet unless I ate, so let's just call it even." He snorts, finishing off the slice of bacon and taking another. "What do you want to do later?"

"I have a doctor's appointment." He makes a face, holding up a hand for me to see. There were large blisters on the skin by his thumb and forefinger, reminding me of blisters you might get from a hot pan. "Mom wants to ask if blisters are normal from the treatment."

"When did they show up?"

"I found them after I woke up from a nightmare." I frown, setting my piece of bacon back on the plate and fidgeting with the material of Matt's jeans without meeting his gaze.

The feeling of being watched was back again and I knew it wasn't from Matt since he was still staring up at the ceiling. Bouts of quiet were normal for us, we could spend three hours together without talking and still be completely comfortable, but I've never felt uneasy around him before.

I think there's something here, Lottie," he says a little later, still holding my hand in his good one. "Do you feel it?"

"Yeah." I give him a slight nod, my dark eyes finally moving from his pants and to the door again. "Have you been in there yet?"

"No, the door won't open."

"Kids," Sara calls as she comes down the stairs, her cheeks flushed from the heat, though there was none down here. "Matt, it's time to go." Matt lets out a tired sigh, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up with a little help from me. "You wanna come with us, Charlotte?"

"Nah," I shake my head," I have to go later this week for my six-week checkup." She gives a sympathetic nod as Matt joins her, looking at me the way I've always hated. Once people find out you have cancer or had it, they always look at you with pity and it makes me feel like a helpless little girl. "Is it okay if I stay here for a little bit? I'm still a little drained from my jog."

"Yeah, sweetie, you know you can. I've stocked up on that Capri Sun that you two like so much, it's in the fridge."

"Thanks, Mrs. Campbell." She gives me a smile before leading her son back up the stairs, the pair going slow since Matt was so weak. Groaning slightly, I lie back on the bed with the half-finished plate of bacon resting on my stomach. I still haven't gained my weight back, but I wasn't as bony as I used to be and I have my hair, so I guess I'm doing better than my dad did.

It was quiet for a while once I heard the car drive off, the other kids at an afternoon movie in town, so I was alone in the house. The feeling of being watched strengthens and I can feel the temperature start to drop the longer I'm in the basement.

"I'm leaving," I say quickly, voice shaking when I catch sight of the pacing figure beyond the door. I get up as fast as I can, plate in hand as I sprint up the stairs, but something makes me pause at the top, the feeling of something cold brushing against my bared shoulder.

There was a whispering in my ear and the cold was pressing against me like someone had their chest against my back; my hand was shaking on the doorknob as the whisper grows louder and easier to understand. It was a boy's voice and he seemed to be saying the same thing over and over again. At first I thought it was something along the lines of money, maybe a gangster had been embalmed here, but the voice became even clearer and the word it was whispering had me leaving the house at a dead sprint.

" _Lottie_."

***~::~*~::~*~::~*~**~::~*~::~*~::~*~***

It was dark outside and the asphalt was cold under my feet as I continued to walk across the street; there was no moon to light the way, but my eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. I wasn't sure where I was going, just that I had to get outside where the air was cooler and I could breathe better.

My toes curl slightly as my feet hit the wet grass, blades of it sticking when I keep walking forward to the porch stairs. The Campbell house loomed ahead, like a haunted house from the scary stories I used to read, big and monstrous. I had to get inside, needed to see what was on the other side of that door in the basement.

"Lottie." The whispered voice makes me stop, my hand resting on the doorknob. And then he was beside me, a boy that couldn't be more than nineteen with short brown hair, pale blue eyes, and soft features. He was taller than me and his hand was cold when it grasped mine, lifting it off the doorknob. "Go back home, Lottie," he murmured to me, almost pleading.

"Have to see," I whisper back, unable to look away from the door now. "Mattie's not safe in there."

"I'll watch him, Lottie." I didn't want to leave, I wanted to see that secret room, but most of all, I wanted to make sure Matt was really safe. Something was happening in there, something bad that I needed to stop. "Let me walk you home." I give the barest hint of a nod, allowing him to wrap his free arm around my shoulders and lead me back across the street to my front door.

The walk back seemed to take longer and I was beginning to shiver from a sudden gust of wind. It's then I realized I was still in my thin green nightgown, the cotton offering no protection against the cold air that seemed to cut right through me.

"Can't," I moan, numbing fingers desperately trying to open the front door, but unable to. The boy opens it for me, closing it again before leading me up the stairs and to my bedroom at the end of the hall. "Covers."

"I know." He lays me down on my bed and brings my heavy comforter up to my chin before starting back to the door.

"What's your name?"

"Jonah." He gives a kind smile as he looks back over his shoulder. "Sleep now, Lottie, you have hours before daylight." And I did just that, not waking until nine the next morning to the smell of fresh pancakes. Smiling, I throw the covers back and sit up in bed, trying to remember the strange dream from last night. Something about walking, a brief panic, and a soothing calm that accompanied a soft voice. The last part of my dream had been nice apart from the horrible cold, but I could only remember bits and pieces of it. Already, the dream was fading away the harder I focused on it, and I just had to shrug it off completely.

"Charlotte, time for breakfast, honey," Nana called up the stairs.

"Okay," I call back, swinging my feet over the edge of my bed and just sitting there for a moment with my eyes closed.

It wasn't until I decided to pull on some socks that I noticed the bits of grass stuck to my feet and a strange scent of smoke that hung in my room. Breathing fast, my gaze is drawn across the street where a loan figure was silhouetted in the upstairs window.

"Jonah."


	3. III. Visions at the Dinner Table

I dress quickly in a pale blue dress and a pair of worn out Converse before dashing downstairs as quickly as I could, not even stopping to think about how bad my hair must look. Nana looks up when I enter the kitchen, her kind face showing how tired she was when her eyes land on me.

"Honey, how are you feeling," she asks, gesturing to the chair across from her. I sit slowly, my ankle beginning to throb and leading me to think I might have sprained it during my field trip last night.

"I feel fine, why?" It wasn't a complete lie; I don't feel even half as bad as I did back when I was undergoing chemo.

"Well..." She fidgets with her napkin, twisting and untwisting it without meeting my gaze. "Your mother called here last night to check on you." She pauses again, setting the ruined napkin down beside her plate and picking up her fork instead, but she still hasn't touched her chocolate chip pancakes. "She had a nightmare, you see... She was convinced that you were walkin' around outside with some older boy. Now, I told her it was just a dream and that she needed to go back to sleep, but you know how protective your mother gets when she's sober."

"Nana, why do you look so scared?" She meets my gaze now, her hands shaking until she clenches them into fists.

"She refused to go back to bed until I went to check on you, but when I got in your room something felt wrong." She shakes her head a little, mumbling something under her breath. "You were sound asleep in your bed, but it felt like someone else was in the room with us, honey, like back before we found out you were sick."  _Before the Lung Cancer_. "I doubt you can remember much from way back then, but you would talk to an imaginary friend when you came to visit your Grampy and me. You said he was a nice boy that was keeping you out of trouble." Another pause as she struggled to fight back tears. "The presence I felt last night was the same presence I felt back then. Of course, I told your mother you were fine, but she's insisting on checking out early to watch over you herself."

"She can't, she'll just relapse again!"

"I know that, but I also know how hard-headed she can be, so I'm going up there to stay with her for the next few days until she's completely finished, and then I'll bring her here. Baby, I want you staying with the Campbells until I get back; Sara knows what to look for in case you get sick and it'll do Matt good to have a positive presence in his life. I leave in a few hours, but I need you to promise me that you'll be careful and call me if anything, and I mean  _anything_ , feels wrong."

"I promise, Nana." So I was seeing Jonah back when I was little? I could vaguely remember a boy playing with me and talking to me at night, but I always assumed I was just remembering wrong and it was my brother. Nathan always had shaggy blonde hair, but the boy in my memory has neat dark brown hair, so it must have been Jonah, but my mind repressed it to keep me from going batty or something. "D-did the imaginary friend have a name?" Nana finishes chewing before she answers me, looking reluctant to even speak of the person now, real or not.

"Jacob or John, I don't know, something with a J."

"Jonah?"

"Yeah, I think so." She looks decidedly uncomfortable about the whole conversation, so I let it drop and we finish our breakfast in silence. Normally there was a comfortable banter going on, talk about gardening or her bowling team, but neither of us had the energy to get that conversation going this morning. When we finished, I started the dishwasher while Nana disappeared upstairs to pack her bag for the next four or so days. I'll have to pack a bag too unless I want to run back and forth between houses until Nana and my mom get back.

Dragging my ass back up the stairs and to my room, I pull out my old backpack and begin rummaging through my dresser and closet until the bag was filled with clothes, chargers, and my laptop. If I forget anything, I can always come back later to get it.

"I must be going crazy," I mumble, catching myself staring out my window at the Campbell's house every time I pass by the window. "Jonah was just a dream and I was sleep walking." I zip the bag closed and grab an extra pair of shoes and my phone before going downstairs to the living room, dropping my bag down by the kitchen door before getting comfortable on the couch and turning on the TV. Strangely enough, the first show that fills the screen is A Haunting, a TV show that focuses on haunted house stories. "Hell no." I flip to Disney Channel, deciding I'd rather watch Girl Meets World than a show that pushes ghosts in my face after what happened last night. "Nothing happened last night," I mumble again, squeezing my eyes closed as a headache began to build," nothing happened."

"Honey, are you okay?" I jump at Nana's question, the TV blocking out the sounds of her approach.

"I'm fine, Nana, just a little tired." She sits next to me on the couch, cupping my face to keep me from turning away from her worried gaze. I don't like seeing her like this, she's too old to be worrying about if my cancer might come back or not. "Really, I'm fine." I offer up a timid smile, but I knew she was staring more at the circles under my eyes instead of my mouth. "You should leave soon, Mom's probably fighting with the secretary."

"Your mother is a buck twenty-five soaking wet, I think the secretary can handle her until I get there." Too bad she's right about that; chronic drug use and purging had my mother underweight and as strong as a newborn. "Maybe I should just send your brother."

"No, Nate's got his own life and he's doing good now that Mom's out of the picture."

"I want you to call me every night, Charlotte." I nod as well as I can with her still holding my head, my cheeks feeling a little squished. "Be careful, baby girl."

"Always, Nana." Nana lets out an exhausted sigh and kisses my forehead before rising to her feet to grab her bag and purse.

"Come on, I'll walk you across the street to make sure you get there okay. I noticed you were limping this morning." I don't give in to her not-question, knowing she'd only freak out completely if she knew I was sleep walking again since it usually only happens when I'm sick.

I pick up my bag on the way out, following a few feet behind Nana with my eyes trained on the upstairs window. There was nothing there this time, but it was hard to dismiss it when I saw someone up there this morning. Mary is the one to open the front door, a little girl with dark hair and a bright smile, and her smile only widens when she spots me behind Nana.

"Aunt Sara said you were spending the night," Mary says, bouncing lightly on her toes as she moves aside to let us in. "Is your nana staying, too?"

"No, little one, I'm just dropping her off." Mary latches onto my free hand and starts dragging me towards the basement steps without another word. "I love you, Lottie!"

"Love you too, Nana," I call over my shoulder, giggling along with Mary. It was hard to hold my bag and keep from tripping down the stairs, but I managed somehow and I found my laughter dying away when I realize that the door to the secret room is wide open. "When did that happen?"

"Matt says it happened last night." She gains a serious expression and tugs on my wrist until I get down on her level to let her whisper in my ear. "Matt was acting real funny and scared everybody." Eyebrows knitted together in worry, I look at the room over Mary's head. "He made Billy spin on a table until Uncle Peter stopped him."

"Where's Matt now?"

"Upstairs in the bathroom." I straighten up with a forced smile in place, ruffling Mary's hair and laughing when she makes a face. _No need to scare the munchkin_. "I'm going into town with Aunt Sara and Wendy, we're gonna buy clothes for school since it starts next month. Do you wanna come with us, Charlotte?"

"Not today, kiddo." Mary's eyes go wide and she clutches my hand in both of her tiny ones.

"Are you still sick like Matt?"

"N-no, not anymore." She stares at me a moment longer before shrugging and running back up the wooden stairs, leaving me down in the basement watching her. I wasn't alone for two minutes when the noises started up; the squeaking of old wheels, clinking of glass bottles, and heavy footsteps pacing around the secret room. The rational part of my mind screamed for me to run after Mary and stay out of the basement, but I was never considered rational, so I did something extremely stupid.

I turned around to get a look.

The noises stopped when I stepped up to the doorway and I could see several sets of footprints from where the Campbell family had walked around to look at the stuff. I open the old door a little wider to see into the room, my eyes taking in the dust-covered medical equipment and bottles, and a medical table in the center of the room. It reminded me of the ones you see in autopsy rooms in TV shows, except this one you could move around. I was curious now and chanced another step forward into the room, walking over to the table and resting my hands on it.

Everyone in town knew that this place had been a mortuary at one point, but that was the only real fact that everyone agreed on. Some said that old man Aickman was a mad scientist and some said his kid was the insane one that committed a murder-suicide by trying to burn the place down.

I was about to walk over to examine the bottles when the door slammed shut behind me. Without waiting for Casper to jump out and bash my brains in, I sprint over to the door and try to force it open; the knob was turning, so I knew it wasn't locked, but the damn thing refused to open and I'm too small to kick it down.

"Help," I scream when the noises start up again. "Help, I'm locked in!"

"Out," a raspy voice was shouting right behind me," out! I need to work! Get out!" The screams grow louder and shriller as the room begins to grow darker and I stumble away from the door.

 _A window!_ There had to be a window to keep the chemical fumes from knocking Aickman out while he worked. I only make it a few feet when I fall forward, knocking the table over and falling to the hard cement floor. The room was spinning, I couldn't breathe, and a man was running at me.

"Charlotte," I hear someone shouting dimly, but the screaming was too loud. "Charlotte! It's me, you're okay!"

And then everything was lost to darkness.

***~::~*~::~*~::~*~*Later*~::~*~::~*~::~*~***

It was early evening when I woke up, a worried chatter floating in through the open doorway that led into the living room; Sara was talking on the phone to someone if a pause on her end every now and then was any indication, but I hope she's not talking to my nana.

"She's fine now, I think it was just a panic attack," I could hear Sara saying," of course, Cynthia." _She is talking to Nana, great_. "Yeah, I'll keep a close eye on her and if she has another one, then I'll take her to the hospital. Okay, I'll tell her. Bye."

"What'd she say," I ask as I sit up, my voice hoarse from all the apparent screaming I had done. Sara frowns, hanging up the phone before sitting next to me on the couch.

"She's worried, but I think I have her convinced that I'll take care of you while she's gone. She said to tell you that you're not allowed to do much exercising until your next doctor's appointment." I nod, rubbing at my shoulder when it begins to sting. "Stop rubbing." I do what she says, knowing that her mom tone meant she was serious. "Turn around and let me look." I push the throw blanket off and turn to face the wall as Sara lifts the back of my shirt. "You have a red spot here; maybe you scratched it when you fell?"

"I don't really remember." It was a lie, I could remember it all, but I didn't need Sara thinking I was nuts just yet. "Um, can I get up or are you gonna handcuff me to the coffee table to make sure I don't go anywhere? Because, I have to warn you, Nathan taught me how to pick locks in case I'm ever arrested and the cop is an asshole." Sara laughs at that, straightening my shirt and getting up.

"Nothing too strenuous, and I don't want anyone going in that room."

"Yes ma'am, if anyone tries, I'll throw something at their heads."

"Good girl," Sara says with a laugh, helping get up and keeping her hands on my shoulders until she was sure that I wasn't going to fall back over. "Alright, dinner should be done soon, so why don't you go upstairs and see if you can gather everyone up?"

"You got it." I do as Sara asked, finding Mary and Billy in the boy's room discussing whether Batman or Barbie would win in a fight, Wendy was trying to get her nail polish to dry, Peter was playing darts, and Matt was curled up in the chair near Peter. He looked tired and winced every now and again from the burns his treatment left him with. "Sara said that dinner should be done soon." Peter gives a nod, concentrating on the dart board across the room, but Matt gets up and follows me back downstairs.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute," he asks, nodding towards the back door.

"Course you can, Mattie." He leads the way outside, making sure the door was firmly closed before leading me over to a swing set and sitting down, pulling me down on his lap despite the painful burns on his chest. "I don't wanna hurt you, I can sit-"

"I want to hold you, you're warm." I relax against him, hating how pale and sick he looked compared to how I remember him looking in childhood memories. We took care of each other when we were diagnosed, though his was a year earlier than mine, and we would help each other with any missed homework or shows. He is the strongest person I know and to see him having to go through this hurts more than I let on to anyone. "When you were screaming down in the basement... D-did you see something?"

"No." He seemed to hunch further into himself, tightening his hold on my waist and resting his head on my shoulder. I mimic his position, wrapping my arms around him and laying my cheek against his soft hair. "I didn't see anything this time, but I heard a man screaming at me to get out so he could work."

"This time?"

"Yeah, I was sleep walking last night and someone walked me back home. A someone that I don't think was alive since he kind of appeared out of nowhere and Nana couldn't see him when she came to check on me after a frantic call from my mom."

"Celia had another bad dream about your imaginary friend from childhood?"

"Yeah, Nana's flying back to Oklahoma to make her finish the last few days in rehab before bringing her back here." We don't talk for a little while, just swinging back and forth slightly and holding each other. "Have you seen things, Mattie?" I was kind of scared about what his answer would be, but having him experiencing things would make me feel a little saner in the long run of things.

"A boy around our age that was badly burned, a few vivid hallucinations, and my stuff has been moving around when I'm asleep or out of the basement."

"Is the boy you see kinda tall with short brown hair?" Matt gives a little shrug, moving just enough to keep up the slight swaying motion of the swing. "Right, he was burned badly when you saw him, but I think I know what his name is. It's Jonah, his dad was the mortician that lived here and he tried to burn the place down after killing his father. I don't think he's a bad person, I mean, he walked me home last night, he tucked me in, and he even stayed with me until I fell asleep." I let out a soft laugh, allowing my eyes to close as I enjoy the simple moment of being with Matt again. "Are you as scared of all this as I am?"

Matt opened his mouth to respond, but Wendy popped her head out the door and told us to come in and wash up for dinner. Matt and I get up and start inside, Matt twining our fingers together as we walk so that our hands would swing a little. I smile up at him, my smile only growing when he returns it with a genuine smile of his own.

It felt strange to be sitting down at a full table for supper since I was used to eating with only one other person—with Nathan when I was younger and with Nana lately, but Mom was always too strung out to eat when she was home—but what made it even more strained was that Peter and Sara had discovered the history of the house and decided everyone should know since they didn't want secrets.

"Okay," Peter sighs," we all know that this was a funeral home. Big deal."  _It is since there's a group of pissed off spirits here that want the house for themselves_. "It's not now and it hasn't been for years and years. It's just a house with bricks and nails and wood; it's our house until Matt finishes at the hospital. We're all under a lot of stress, so we need to pull together like a team, okay?" He tries to lighten the somber mood with a smile. "Okay, so who would like to say grace?" I duck my head, not able to come up with something on the spot and not feeling like making a fool of myself. "Matt?"

Matt gives a resigned shrug as everyone joins hands, tightening his grip the second he has Wendy's and my hands in his, the strength in his grip painful and keeping our hands pinned to the table. "Ow," I hiss, trying to pull my hand back and unable to. Matt was looking around the room in fear, seeing things that no one else was able to; I tried to see what he was looking at, but all I could hear was pained grunts that were out of sync with Matt's ragged pants. The grunts were coming from his direction, but they weren't from him. A name passes my lips in a whisper that had the grunts closer to my chair than Matt's," Jonah."

As suddenly as it started, Matt was back to normal, staring at us all in scared confusion as his grip relaxed and allowed Wendy and I to take our hands back. "What's wrong," Peter asks.

"It's the medicine," Sara answers quickly, her eyes wide as she takes Matt in. Matt meets my concerned gaze before flicking his eyes over everyone else in the room.

"Didn't you see it," he asks Wendy, voice hoarse. He looked desperate and in need of validation, but I couldn't speak when I saw the burned boy standing behind Wendy's chair. Even with his skin charred and chunks of hair missing, I could still make out the familiar bright blue eyes that stood out from the black the surrounded them. _Jonah must have caused Matt's episode._

I still didn't fear him; it was hard to considering he'd never done anything to harm me before. I only registered Wendy leading Matt down to the basement when Jonah moved to follow them, his gaze meeting mine over his shoulder one last time before he disappeared around the corner.

"Charlotte, sweetie, are you okay?"

"Yeah," I mumble," I'm gonna go take my shower."

"You should eat."

"I'm not hungry."


End file.
